2013.09.25 - Ambushing Ambushers
It's a quiet early afternoon at the harbour. The sun is shining, the clouds are puffed, dotted against the blue sky of early fall. It's cool, which means that those who 'dabble' in boating have the marina workers performing that final maintance before winterizing begins. Others are in chinos and topsiders, playing the stalwart sailors and doing it all themselves. There's one that seems to be currently boat-less, but still on the pier, watching the traffic in and out. There are still those few taking the last runs, but they're few and far between. Traffic on the water is mostly done for the season. Kurt is in a jacket, pair of jeans, his black hightop sneakers. With hands tucked into pockets, he's keeping to the underhangs of the fishing sheds, leaning, his tail low and wrapped about his ankle to keep it out of the way. (Most of the people on the dock have seen him once or twice before, so it's not truly a 'shock' to anyone. It's more... courtesy. No sense waving it about!) He's watching the preparations with those golden, featureless eyes, though it's not wistful. The elf IS in the market for a new boat, after all, and he'll know 'the' one when he sees it. He just hasn't. Yet. Never a moment's rest for the wicked. In the last month Mystique has caused more trouble for other global operations than she had in quite some time, and it felt good. Her recent run-in with SHIELD also proved to be most enlightening, on several fronts. The Genosha business, a smattering of covert operations, even some intel on the Weapon X programs. Yet, out of all of this there had been just one detail that stood out to her the most. Fury wants her son. She had returned to Genosha, reassured the mutant population there that she was alive and well. Then, it's right back to business as usual. It means taking another trip back to Metropolis, tracking Kurt down (which she's gotten to be quite proficient at these days,) then figuring out what to do about it now that she's here. The situation is simple enough. He's not safe here. Frankly, neither is she. The difference is that she's aware of it, and she knows what to do about it. This is why she's coming for Kurt. There is always activity in New York City, Metropolis, whatever one will call it. From visiting dignitaries to 'just another day', the City truly never Sleeps. It's something the blue elf is getting used to; having once had a home in the wilds of Westchester, this is something quite different. And to someone raised in the villages of Bavaria? He's not doing too bad a job in acclimating himself to the non-stop. As a result, it's no shock to see the speedboats coming into the harbor, their wakes causing the boats to bob up and down. Hue is cried, "Hey! Slow down!" -but no notice is taken. Could be because there are a couple of special lights hooked up, and there is a decided law enforcement crest situated upon the bow that declares 'SHIELD', along with several men that have nothing to do with the operation of the vessel. Coming in from the street, too now, there is some commotion, but nothing -truly- that marks things as completely out of the ordinary. Sure, it's strange so with that, Kurt takes a step back, his gaze shifting from the harbor to the streets behind, and back again. On one of the moorings, the wake comes at a bad time, and one of the workers that has been working on the engine of one on the pleasure crafts takes a header into the water with a *SPLASH*. Rapid-fire Spanish comes out, and the worker's friend rushes to the back of the boat with an orange floatation device, looking for the head that he knows needs to be bobbing out of the water any time now. "Él no sabe nadar!" While Kurt doesn't understand Spanish, he does get the gist of what is going on.. and it's without a moment's hesitation that Kurt teleports out to the edge of the boat where the worker is peering. The moment the 'blue demon' does, however, the worker shouts out again, pretty much in Spanish that most can understand, "Madre de Dios!" and makes to hi-tail it the hell away from the creature. (Looks like not EVERYONE is used to seeing Kurt out and about? Must be new!) If Raven didn't know where her son was a moment ago, she certainly does now. She knows that bamf -anywhere.- She also knows the sight of SHIELD when she sees them, pathetically predictable creatures that they are. All show and no subtlety, coming in with lights on and arms ready. How's that for UN operations? She's spent time in the Helicarrier. She's spent countless hours pouring through their databases. She has an idea of how they'll come into this. They want a non-lethal takedown and by now they have to know that he teleports. Anything they use will debilitate immediately or somehow counter the effects of his powers. Nonlethal, perhaps, but also highly unpleasant. Fortunately, she doesn't play by the same rules. Up to the docks comes a grizzled old fisherman, complete with ragged, sun-faded flannel shirt, an old captain's hat, a face full of silvery grey beard and mustache, and an honest to god pipe held between his teeth with one hand thoughtfully thumbing the end. It's almost comical in a stereotypical sense, though the overhanging gut allows her to hide a few extra surprises just for a situation like this. "Yyyep. Looks like them boys gone found themselves a big 'un. Just like the snowcrab chase of ninety-three, I reckon. Cold year, it was. Cold year." Well, the blue and bamfer certainly does know how to make an entrance, that's for sure. With the fair bits of mayhem that surrounds him, Kurt is rarely subtle, though when he truly wants to be, there are few better than he. He simply doesn't think of it when in the middle of saving someone from potentially drowning. Turning his head around as the man begins to stumble his way back to get as much distance between himself and the 'blue demon', Kurt opens his mouth to try and tell the guy that he's here to help, but.. closes it again. No time, really, and in this case? Time is everything. Searching the water again with great concern, Kurt isn't paying too much attention to the bobbing boats, nor to the boats that are killing their engines as they whip around. (If one were to actually pay attention, there are a couple of sniper rifles coming out of their packs and being set up.. seems they, too, believe they have time. Time enough.) "Where are you?" is called out. Perhaps there is a head above water that he simply doesn't see? Moving around, he doesn't bother with the orange floatation device that was left behind in the haste to depart. The elf shifts from side to side of the back of the boat, looking down, peering into the depths. It's a moment before the elf simply decides that enough is indeed enough, and he takes a breath before he takes a jump off the back of the boat into the murky water of the side tidal harbor. Those cars from the street side are a little more conspicuous. They look decidedly like law enforcement as the pile out of their black, unmarked sedans on the street. They're appointed rather strangely, with their SHIELD badges.. but moreso with the weaponry they bring out of their trunks. Large calibre looking weapons; something that will pack a serious punch if it's backed by powder, or perhaps something a little less normal. Just down the road.. a white panel van. (Noooo... that's not conspicuous either, is it?) Sigh... Now Kurt's in the water. This complicates matters slightly. How many times has she tried to teach him self preservation over the pointless lives of those worthless humans? Some things never stick with the boy. Or with SHIELD, it would seem. "Ah reckon it might be time to do something 'bout this here situation," the older fisherman says in a distant sigh. "Whelp. Best not keep these boys awaitin.'" By the time he turns around he's visibly shed what looks like a hundred and fifty pounds. Facial hair vanishes. Dull, steel grey eyes flash to solid yellow then turn into solid chrome, flowing outward across the metamorph's form until she stands as a liquid metal sculpture of her true self, seemingly clad in nothing more than a combat harness about her hips. Twin .40 caliber HK pistols, a couple of blades, and a grenade, which is now in her hands and already freed of its retaining pin. "Today's lesson is one of manners." With an almost carelessly casual toss Mystique flips the grenade across the harbor toward the first SHIELD boat, the priming lever flicking away with a soft chime. Before contact is made she's got a sidearm in either hand and a challenging smirk on her face. "You should have sent more men, Fury." The elf is under the water when the first bit of 'excitement' goes down in the lobbing of a grenade. A fuzzy, indigo head breaks the water the moment those on the boat start doing the 'there is a grenade on the boat' dance. In hand, Kurt has the now unconscious form of a worker in arm and he's treading water for the moment before- BAMF! and the pair land upon the dock. The grenade cooks off, and there is that rather distinct *BOOM* on the water as a SHIELD issue motor boat blows completely apart, pieces of fiberglass flying everywhere, poking holes in moor ships, acting as projectiles to those unsuspecting. (But really, who expects grenades to land on boats? Really?) The sonic *boom* of the explosion doesn't send Kurt off, but rather, the elf leans over on the dock, covering the itenerate worker with his soaked body to keep the man from being impaled. Priorities.. get the man breathing! For those on the boat, they're now in the water; and while guns aren't completely discarded, they're a little harder to use from their current position. Behind, several hundered yards out, is another SHIELD boat that kicks in the engines to run to pick them up, all while check on the dock area where they were under attack- as far as they could see, anyway. Radio messages begin to come in fast and furious, which causes those on the land to step up their movement. From a walk to a jog, it's the 'bigger guns' now that come out, and they begin to set perimeter; finding cover as such as they can, and begin to become quite liberal with their smoke grenades as they work to close the possible exits. Close the exits... It's an open harbor, complete with one teleport-capable mutant and one that can become virtually anything which her twisted little heart desires. And they're trying to box them in with -smoke?- Mystique is beginning to wonder if Fury specifically sent in this bunch of operatives to die today. The under-performers. Less paperwork than trying to discharge them? Of course, smoke means that they can't clearly see what's happening, either. One Wagner and one Darkholme, separated from the outside world. Why couldn't they simply teleport on out of here? SHIELD's whole operation could be a bust. But, where'd be the fun in that? They came out dressed in their best and she still has some unfinished scores to settle ever since they got her cornered in the Argus. "Keep your head down, boy," the metallic Mystique tells Kurt in passing. If SHIELD wants someone to shoot at then by gods she'll give them someone to shoot at. Someone which is not her son. Let them discover that they're too slow, too late, and way too out of their league to play with the mutants. Higher priority target, anyone? Like a scene out of a Terminator flick Raven steps out of the smoke with her all metal physique, pistols held low at either hip. She gives no warning when the guns are brought up and put into operation, potent shots hammering out toward any and all wearing a SHIELD-issued uniform. "Move, move, move!" While it is, indeed, a potential day for all those in Fury's employ to die, and it's a very high liklihood, they're not completely underprepared either. Setting masks down on their faces, they can and do move in, their large calibered weapons at the ready. Move, set cover, move, set cover; these men have worked together before, and it can be seen in the silence, their hand-gestures. One team is obviously their 'extraction' team, and the other side is for that flanking, shooting to bring down an Alpha mutant sort. The worker begins to cough water at Kurt's ministrations, and turning the man onto his side so water can be disgorged from lungs, the elf looks up to see the metallic looking-- "Mother?" Looking out now, Kurt can see the crest upon the bow of the ship as they pick their compatriots out of the water. There's another that is levelling a weapon, undoubtedly trying to get a bead on her? "Mother, watch out!" Kurt pops up from his leaning over the stricken worker, and reaches to grab a hold of her, but she's gone- through the smoke. Those that are advancing through the smoke don't get quite the picture that those holding the perimeter do, and the moment she does step from the black cloud, weapons train upon her, and a warning is called-- Which abruptly ceases the moment Mystique opens fire. Fire is returned, and the sharp reports of both standard issue weapons as well as specialized 'mutant wounding' weapons sound in echo in the canyons of cement beyond the docks. A net, two, go flying through the air, well aimed, timed by experienced hands, towards the metallic Mystique. Well of course they're going to open fire, what fun would it be if they didn't? Mystique, in all of her usual arrogance, came prepared for this dance. Traditional ballistics and darts alike simply bounce off of her hardened skin, she's impossible to injure while she continues to gun down everyone else. It's just too damned easy... Until the electrified nets hit. That metal also happens to be her skin, surrounding things which are not made of metal. All those nets need to is make contact, the charge lashing across her body and forcing a sharp but abrupt yelp from her as she falls to a hand and knee. Metal transforms into diamond. (It works for Emma, why not for her?) The conductive nature vanishes, as does the effect of their nets. The last few shots slam out of her pistols then both are discarded, the metamorph slipping out from the nets as easily as pulling a bedsheet off of herself. Very well. She can step up her plan slightly. Back into the smoke she dives, making a beeline straight for Kurt. "Get us onto their boat!" she hisses to the Blue Bamfer. This ends her way, according to -her- plan. "We have a hit!" comes as the pair of nets land upon their target. "Secondary target is down. I repeat secondary target-- oh shit!" (Guess when that happens?) As nets are cast off, one then the other, the SHIELD agents scatter to find a better position, bringing their tranqs into play. Not their first choice; their job was net.. but they're not without some resources. "It's Mystique!" There is more indistinct chatter, all business, but the orders come down, "Grab and go! Repeat, do not engage. Primary target only!" Kurt's on the move now, a shot missing the elf's shoulder by inches and heartbeats. He hears the telltale *zing* from it, and is spurred on. "What did you do?" This time? "Mein Gott.." At her request, however, Kurt spins around, and in the next second, he's gone from his place, another 'bullet' whizzing past, pushing through the brimstone cloud left behind. (Nothing like a little luck!) Bamf! Kurt lands beside his mother, and in the next *thump* of a rapidly beating heart, the pair are gone, leaving behind that cloud of aether, only to land upon the boat that is now doubly filled with SHIELD agents. Much consternation, to say the least. Landing, Kurt is gone again, only to reappear next to the navigation area, and pushing on the man that stands before the wheel, the elf actually apologizes. "I am sorry, mein freund, but we have need of this. Oddly enough, to get away from you." Works like a charm. Kurt thinks he's helping Mystique, but it's Mystique whom is helping him. 'Helping.' Once on the boat more tranq darts find their way to her, each one deflected as easily as the last. They do nothing to slow her down as she starts striking and throwing agents one after another off of the boat, with varying degrees of serious injury. Getting a solid diamond fist to the nose -never- feels pleasant. During the scuffle she frees one agent of her dartgun, just as easily dropping her with a dose before she, too, disappears into the water. In all of a half minute the boat falls under mutant control, the two making waves as they dash away from the harbor. A moment later and Mystique comes forward to join her son, shifting back into blue skin and white leather pants and jacket. The standard SHIELD tracker is forcibly removed from the cabin, broken, and thrown overboard. No way is she letting them easily track this boat. "Gets the blood flowing, doesn't it," she remarks with a lilting sigh and a thin smile which is way more wicked than it has any right to be. One hand rests upon the console as she leans upon one hip, the other yet holding a tranq pistol, solid hued eyes staring back to Kurt with a life all of their own. She looks so very amused. "This is not quite the way I wanted to acquire a boat, Mother.." Kurt offers, as he hits the throttle, moving the boat through the water with practiced ease. The elf is soaked from head to foot, the inky black hair mostly plastered to his head still. It's enough to bring a chill, but that isn't quite important. Kurt, too, has a couple of agents to fight off, the tail taking hold of pistols as their aimed; much to the chagrin of those wielding them. Once free, the elf sets a course out of the harbor, even as the chatter on the radio is suddenly silenced by his mother as the GPS is forcibly removed. "Und not in a good way. Tell me mother. Why is it that we've now stolen a boat? Are the rumours true what--" Magneto did? "-- was done?" Because the talk in Mutant Town certain makes it more difficult for him to walk through unaccosted in some way! "Is this part of it?" He is still efficient, even if his heart keeps getting in the way of his common sense. Mystique's only further amused by the fact that Kurt attacked and disarmed these agents without even asking her -why.- Not until the deed is done. And if he only knew they had originally been after -him?- "I'm afraid that the situation has changed somewhat," she admits with a more weary sounding tone following another exhale of breath. She doesn't explain matters any further yet, instead stepping closer to greet the soggy, blue-furred mutant in her usual fashion. By hugging him. Not throwing him off of the nearest cliff. You're freezing, dear," she gently says in a tone which can only be motherly in nature. "This is something else." Which in a way is true, Fury wanted to get hold of Kurt before they ever trashed the Argus. From over Kurt's shoulder featureless yellow eyes open, staring out across the boat. "I know this is going to be difficult for you, and I am sorry, but try not to take it personally." Before a response can find its way to her son's lips she angles the dart gun toward the small of his back, one pull of the trigger sounding out with a *tak!* of compressed air. It is true. But in his defense, the agents fired first, and Kurt is mutant enough to pull other mutants OUT of the battle and NOT jump immediately in on the 'authorities' side. Perhaps he's a little jaded, but in all his idealism, he still has something of a practical streak in him. He knows there is little that is fair in the justice system. And say what one will, this is still his Mother. Finding his way out of the harbor and into the ocean proper, Kurt keeps them close enough to land, but begins to power down the engines so he can turn and talk to her. Shaking his head, Kurt shrugs a little offhandedly, though he is cold. The wind, the weather, the breeze.. He returns the hug, and from the embrace, his tones turn questioning. "Situation has changed somewhat? Tell me what is wrong, und I can see if I can do anyth-" -tak!- There, in the embrace, Kurt is hit with the high-powered, enough drugs to keep Mystique down for hours, tranq. Before the rest of the word, much less the rest of the thought, can come, his entire body relaxes, and if he's not held, he'll fall to the deck of the fiberglass, stolen motorboat in a heap. Out. Cold. Mystique isn't so cold as to let her child collapse onto the deck. Not so long as he's already within her arms. She sets him down as gentle as can be, plucking the spent dart aside and flicking it across the cabin. He had played his part, he did a good job as usual, but now it's time for her to step in and take over. Mother knows best. "We'll talk about this later," she says to the unconscious form resting upon the deck while taking over the controls. More speed, away from shore. Away from places he could easily bamf away to. "Maybe then you'll understand." Category:Log